


Ballad

by TomAyto10



Series: Indulgence, really.... [11]
Category: Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul| 神撃のバハムート VIRGIN SOUL| Shingeki no Bahamut Virgin Soul, 神撃のバハムート GENESIS | Shingeki no Bahamut: Genesis | Rage of Bahamut: Genesis
Genre: Drabble, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomAyto10/pseuds/TomAyto10
Summary: Kaisar was a terrible drunk.





	Ballad

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a sentence prompt but this is a little longer than a sentence. lol

 Kaisar was a terrible drunk.

Favaro had always been curious of how the other man would act when he was inebriated and after careful scheming and crafty manipulation, Kaisar was finally, by gods; shitfaced.

But, as with many things Favaro did, he was starting to regret it.

It started out with woeful talk of how Kiasar utterly wished the world was pure. He spoke of standing honorably at a king's side with a knight's crest emblazoned on his bosom.

All boring and lame talk in Favaro’s world-savvy opinion.

But it wasn't until Kiasar convinced the sitting bard to play a jiffy, that Favaro thought that he should just abandoned his... (Rival? Friend? Companion?) - _Kaisar_.

Kaisar sang terribly. It was not only off-tune, but loud and didn't seem to ever end. He had a spilling pint of beer in one hand and was thumping his chest off rhythm to the ballard he was trying to shout into existence.

Favaro had looked over to Rita at one point and begged with his eyes for her to punch him with that freaky amputated hand of hers.

Rita had told him point blank, “You made him. You deal with him.”

Not even trying to conspire to zombify him had moved her.

In the end, with most of the bar jeering for Kaisar to either shut up or leave, (And Kaisar wouldn't shut up, the stubborn bastard) Favaro had self-sacrificed with a heavy heart to drag him to the carriage where another drunk annoyance would most likely also be shitfaced.

Kaisar was heavy, masculine lines and weight over his shoulder as they stumbled home, at odds with how soft his hair tickled at Favaro’s ear.

Kaisar’s hair was still as soft as it ever had been.

He's still mumbled under his breath the ballad, a longing loving song, that while still sounded terrible, it made Favaro fill with odd nostalgic fondness.

The carriage was in sight when Kaisar slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor pitifully. Favaro, too drained and drunk, dropped right next to him.

The moon was pale, a silver eye in the black sky, and when he blinked he could see a dragon's eyes, sliding closed one last time.

“Favaro!” Kaisar said abruptly as if he was just waking up to a fight, and jolting Favaro from darkening thoughts.

He almost wanted to ignore him, but he turned to him, mouth unconsciously lifting. Favaro supposed that it had been ingrained into him to perk up whenever Kaisar yelled out his name.

“Yes? Hammerhead?”

Kaisar swung in closer, so much so that his perfectly and stupidly shaped nose bumped into his. “Didya’ en-enjoy my singing, Fava?”

Favaro’s eyebrows rose at that nickname, something soulful moving in him at memories but he brushed it away. “‘Course I did! It was like listening to the chorus of angels.”

Kaisar snorted like a proud horse and then narrowed his bloodshot eyes. He poked a finger to Favaro’s chest and then turned his palm upwards. “Pay me then! … pay fer my song. My song. Song I sang. Fer you. Fooooor. Fava- _ro_ ”

Favaro chuckled. “Payment for whatever you did back there is a stab into the gut and I'm not gonna hurt you. Not today, at least.”

But Kaisar didn't budge, holding out his hand like a incessant beggar. Favaro frowned, exclaimed in exasperation and didn't give an inch of space.“I have nuthin’! If I give you anything right now, it'll probably just something I just stole off of you.”

But Kaisar didn't retreat. If anything, he pushed in closer, his nose sliding down the length of Favaro’s and it was until Kaisar huffed angrily, lips brushing to the corner of his lips, that Favaro understood the position they were in.

He was about to lean away, to laugh and make fun of the drunken man when Kaisar slotted their lips together.

It was a bitter rush of acidic heat from the beer that had that filled his mouth, awful really but Favaro gasped, eyes opening wide. Kaisar was lost in his own drunk rose colored world were kissing a so called hated enemy was absolutely commonplace. It took Favaro a little longer to follow, but not by much.

He kissed back, trying to make the sloppy movement of Kaisar’s mouth into something good.

And eventually, it _was_ good.

Kaisar gripped at him, pulling him in closer and closer. Favaro didn't see why, this was one fight he wasn't eager to flee.

He grinned when Favaro pulled away, flushed red and lips plump with use, shiny pink and tempting.

“good pay…. ment.” Kaisar slurred and slumped into Favaro’s neck, asleep in an incredible instant.  

Favaro tried to catch his breath.

And while he regretted that terrible horrible sound that Kaisar called singing, Favaro thought that if this was the end result… Well, he just might be okay with a couple of more ballads.


End file.
